


Deep in the dark

by Catkween27



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, The poor thing went through so much, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 03:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catkween27/pseuds/Catkween27
Summary: Miss Plover (though only briefly introduced in The Desolations of Devil’s acre) went through a lot, and to be honest is bound to be traumatised, and since I love to make myself sad, I wrote this.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

It was dark inside her head. Dark enough that even the cheery sunshine filtering through the windows served only to make her eyes ache and drive her to burrow deeper into her nest of tangled blankets. 

In the back of her mind she knew she should get out of bed, wash up, and care for the children she still had left, but the screams that echoed in her skull were much too loud, so instead she hid, wrapping herself in layers of wrinkled sheets and old blankets and trying to shut out the sound. 

She curled into herself, one knee pulled up against her chest, while her hurt leg struggled to meet its twin. 

She didn’t quite realise when she started to cry, only noticing the hot tears rolling down her cheeks when her pillow was soaked. 

Vaguely, she wondered how many times she had cried. A dozen? A hundred? She didn’t know, but it felt like more than that. She was sure by now she could have filled an ocean with her tears and there would still be more, but she let them come regardless, trying to convince herself that her tears would wash away her grief, a little at a time, and than perhaps, if she cried enough, the memories would leave her alone. 

Of course, they didn’t; and before long her head was filled again with the sounds of screams and howling winds as her loop was torn apart by the storm giant and her children’s bodies were tossed through the swirling air as if they were nothing more than broken dolls. 

“Stop it!” She hissed to herself, her hands rising to plant themselves over her ears to try and block out the noise. “Shut up! Leave me alone!” She cried as she saw Miss Babax’s body go stiff before her and drop in a lifeless heap onto the blood soaked hospital cot. 

“Ravenna!” She shouted, though she didn’t realise she’d said it aloud. “Ravenna, no!”

She brought her hand to her mouth, biting down on her knuckles hard enough to draw blood as she tried to block everything out( wishing more than anything that it had been her who had been killed; and not Miss Babax. Perhaps then everything would just be quiet. Perhaps then she could feel at peace. 

It was with these thoughts that she rose from her bed for the first time in days, half staggering to the bathroom, her hurt leg dragging limply behind her and she made the painful journey across her room. 

_ Peace  _ She thought. She wanted peace. 

Somewhere, amidst the screaming in her head, she was vaguely aware of someone calling her name. 

“Adrienne? We’ve brought you some supper!” The voice said, sounding much too cheery. 

Miss Plover stopped, swaying for a moment, unsure if the voice she heard was truly there, or just another monster inside her head which refused to leave her alone. 

She kept walking, dragging herself to the bathroom, and leaning heavily against the sink, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. 

She hardly recognised the woman that stared back. The dark hair she’d always taken so much pride in keeping smooth and shiny now hung lank tangled mess over her shoulders. Her eyes looked sunken, bloodshot and red rimmed from crying. She lifted a hand to touch her cheek, shuddering from how pale she looked, wondering where the usual rosy color had gone.

She started to cry again, wondering absently how she still had any tears left.

“Who are you?” She whispered to the spectre looking back at her from the glass. “Who are you! What have you done to me!” 

Her voice started to rise In pitch as her reflection taunted her from the shining glass. 

“What have you done to me!” She said again, her words growing louder, as her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

“Who am I?” She whispered, her bad leg trembling beneath her, struggling to hold her up. But she hardly felt the pain, how could she? When the memories in her head hurt so much more. 

She couldn’t bare it any longer. She couldn’t bare to look at the battered shell of herself that gazed back at her with a half healed bruise across It’s cheek and a cut across it’s brow that was sure to leave a scar. 

Miss Plover clenched her fist, anger bubbling inside her. Anger at caul for destroying her home. Anger that her children Had been slaughtered. Anger that Miss Babax had been killed, and most of all, anger at herself that she had survived and then other had not. 

Before she quite knew what she was doing, she drove her fist into the shining glass, feeling it shatter as shards of twinkling mirror cut into her hand. 

She smiled a bit, pulling her hand back and looking and the slowly leaking cuts across her knuckles and then glancing back up at the broken shards that littered the sink. Slowly, she reached for one, closing her hand around it and ignoring the sting as it cut into her palm. 

By now, her wounded leg was struggling to hold her, so she sank onto the cool tile floor, eventually just lying down across it, enjoying the feeling of the tiles beneath her cheek. 

She looked at her piece of glass, catching fractured glimpses of her reflection in It’s polished surface. 

“Adrienne!” 

She heard the voice again, and it pierced through her brief moment of respite, causing her panic and fear to flood back to her. She gripped the glass she held, watching as the blood started to drip down her hand, splashing little droplets onto the pearly white tiles before her eyes. 

It was mesmerising, slowly starting to calm her nerves as she watched the steady flow of red droplets. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, the hand that held the glass slowly drifting to her outstretched arm, the pointed tip of the shard of mirror prodding experimentally at the exposed skin and drawing a little trickle of blood. 

A dreamy smile came across her face as she drew the glass across her skin again, finally feeling at peace and closing her eyes, just moments before Miss Cuckoo burst into the room and screamed. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Adrienne!” Miss Cuckoo dropped down beside the ymbryne on the ground, turning her over. 

“Adrienne, what did you do!” She screamed, scrambling to grab a washcloth to press over the bleeding gashes on Miss Plover’s arm. 

“Alma!” Miss Cuckoo yelled when Miss Plover gave no answer. “Alma, come quick! And bring bandages!” She called, pressing down on the wounds to try and stop the flow of blood as she gently pried the shard of glass from between Miss Plover’s fingers. 

She felt tears prickling in her eyes as the blood continued to flow, despite her efforts. 

“Alma! Hurry!” She shouted, grabbing another washcloth to drape over the bleeding hand. 

A moment later Miss Peregrine burst into the room, going as quickly as she could with her injured leg and her arms full of medical supplies. 

“Birds! Isabelle, what happened!” She gasped, kneeling down beside Miss Cuckoo and the unconscious Miss Plover. 

“I-I think she did this!” Miss Cuckoo moaned. “Look!” She said, squeezing Miss Plover’s arm tightly to stop the bleeding and indicating the discarded piece of glass. 

Miss Peregrine kicked the shard away, rolling up her sleeves and reaching for a medical bag. 

“I wish Florence was here” she muttered, as she nudged Miss Cuckoo’s hand out of the way so she could look at the wound. 

She bit her lip at the sight of it. 

“Good grief” she said. “I think she’s hit a vein. And I think the best thing to do would be to give her stitches” she said, and Miss Cuckoo nodded, reaching for the bag with shaking fingers. 

“What do you need me to do?” She asked, feeling a bit sick at the sight of the slowly cooling blood on the ground. 

“Keep pressure on this” Miss Peregrine said, hurrying to wash her hands and quickly threading a curved suturing needle. 

She came back and knelt down again, biting her lip and narrowing her eyes, bending down and slowly starting to stitch. 

Miss Cuckoo looked away, instead focusing her gaze on Miss Plover’s face. 

“I hadn’t realised how bad it was...” she said, as she studied the still visible tear tracks down her sister’s face. 

“We shouldn’t have left her on her own...” she whispered. 

“Hush, Isabelle” Miss Peregrine snapped. “I need to concentrate” she said, her brow furrowed as she did her best to put Miss Plover’s arm back together. 

“Hand me some gauze, alcohol, and those bandages” she ordered as she finally finished and tied the stitches off. 

Miss Cuckoo handed them to her; watching warily as Miss Peregrine poured the alcohol over Miss Plover’s arm. 

Miss Plover jolted, her eyes flying open as she tried to pull her arm away. 

“D-don’t touch me” she squeaked, her eyes unfocused as they rolled madly around the room, trying to find something to land on. 

“Don’t touch me! Go away!” She shouted, dragging herself into a corner and leaving a little trail of scarlet droplets from her still bleeding hand. 

“Adrienne, it’s us!” Miss Peregrine called. 

“It’s Alma, and Isabelle, we just want to help you!”

Miss Plover shook her head. 

“Leave me alone!” She said, her eyes finally finding purchase and lading on Miss Peregrine. 

“Just go away! Go away!” 

“Adrienne...” Miss Peregrine said. “Adrienne, we want to help!” She repeated, but Miss Plover shook her head. 

“Go away!”

“What do we do?” Miss Cuckoo asked softly “her hand is still bleeding... how are we supposed to fix it if she won’t let us touch her!”

“Hush” Miss Peregrine said again, trying to make her way towards Miss Plover, moving slowly so she wouldn’t get startled. 

“Adrienne, my dear, you’re bleeding quite badly, and I have to bandage you up and stitch up your hand” she said gently. 

Miss Plover flattened herself against the wall, her bleeding hand scrabbling across the floor to reach for her shard of glass. 

“Get away from me!” She screamed. “Get away! Don’t touch me!” 

Miss Peregrine moved a little closer anyways, but stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes going wide as dinner plates as she saw Miss Plover bring the glass up to her throat

“Adrienne! Don’t!” She exclaimed. 

“Why!” Miss plover shrieked as big tears started rolling down her cheeks. 

“Because we need you alive my dear!” Miss Peregrine told her. 

“Well maybe I don’t want to live!” Miss Plover shouted back, pressing the glass harder against her own throat. 

“Stop it!” Miss Peregrine shouted, diving across the floor and managing to grab Adrienne’s hand, wrestling the glass away from her and slicing her own hand in the process. 

“Isabelle, help me!” She said, tossing the bloodied glass away as she tried to keep Miss Plover still enough to check she hadn’t damaged her throat too badly. 

“You’re going to have to work on her hand” she said, still struggling to keep Miss Plover from wriggling out of her grasp. 

“Shhh, Adrienne, try and calm down” she said gently. “Please dear, you need to be calm...” she said, pulling Miss Plover into a tight embrace to keep her from hurting herself further. 

Eventually, she stopped writhing, hanging still in Miss Peregrine’s arms as Miss cuckoo tended to her wounds. 

“You should have let me do it!” Adrienne wailed. “You should have let me!”

“Hush” Miss Peregrine said. “Hush now. There is no way we would let you hurt yourself” she said softly. “You’re an ymbryne. You’re our sister.” She told Miss Plover. 

The words just made her cry harder. 

“A sorry excuse for an ymbryne!” She blubbered. “I-I couldn’t even protect my own children! Or Ravenna, or— I’m so bloody useless! And I’m so tired!” 

“You’re not useless... none of it was your fault...” Miss Peregrine told her, though she knew Miss Plover wouldn’t listen. 

“It should have been me!” She sobbed as Miss Cuckoo finished bandaging her up. 

“It should have been me! Not Ravenna...” 

“Stop it this instant!” Miss Peregrine shouted finally, loosing her patience. “You’re alive. And if I have anything to do with it, you’ll stay that way” she said. 

Miss Plover whimpered. “You should’ve let me do it...” she said softly, her eyelids starting to flutter. 

Miss Peregrine sighed heavily. 

“Isabelle” she said, turning to look at Miss cuckoo. “Would you mind making her bed?” She asked softly. “She needs fresh sheets, and it’s a mess” she said. 

Miss Cuckoo nodded. 

“Right away” she said. “I’ll bring you a clean nightgown too” she offered and Miss Peregrine nodded. 

“You need a bath, Adrienne” Miss Peregrine said, finally pulling away from Miss Plover and realising her shoulder was damp with blood. 

“I’ll have to bandage this as well” she said softly, brushing Miss Plover’s hair away so she could see the cut on Her neck. Miss Plover just whimpered. 

“Let’s get you into the bath first, Hmm?” Miss Plover didn’t answer, so Miss Peregrine got to her feet, half dragging half carrying the woman into the bathtub. 

“Come on, Adrienne” Miss Peregrine grumbled as she tried to get Miss Plover’s nightgown off. “I need your help to do this” she said. 

Miss Plover just gazed blankly at the wall, letting her eyes go out of focus. 

Miss peregrine sighed heavily and rolled up her sleeves some more, tossing the old nightgown into a corner when she finally managed to get it off and reaching for soap and a sponge, careful to keep the bandaged arm out of the water. 

Miss Plover shuddered, pulling her good arminstinctively over her chest to cover herself as she leaned her head against the wall, pulling away from Miss Peregrine as she started the water and tried to clean her off

“Adrienne, for goodness sake, pull yourself together!” Miss Peregrine snapped, throwing down her sponge in the soapy water. 

“I’m getting isabelle” she said irritably, marching back to Miss Plover’s room where Miss Cuckoo was busy making the bed. 

“Isabelle” she called. “Isabelle, I need your help. She’s being impossible!” She said, throwing her hands up with exasperation. 

Miss Cuckoo nodded, smoothing down the clean quilt she’d put over the bed before following Miss Peregrine back o the bathroom. 

“Adrienne” she said softly once she’d gotten there. “Adrienne, dear, won’t you let me wash you off?” She said gently, but it was like speaking to a brick wall. 

“Adrienne, listen to me” Miss cuckoo whispered, her voice soft and soothing while Miss Peregrine stood and watched from the sink. 

“I need to get you cleaned up. I promise you’ll fell much better after, Hmm?” Miss Cuckoo coaxed, carefully trying to pry Miss Plover’s arm away from her chest.

“Please, sweetie, we just want to take care of you” she said gently, brushing a block of tangled hair and a stray tear off Miss Plover’s cheek. 

Miss Plover still did not answer, but she let her muscles relax,’allowing mor Miss Cuckoo to lift her arm away from her chest and start to wash her off.

“Well done” she said as she worked, running the soapy sponge gently over Miss Plover’s skin. 

“Now can you lean forward so I can wash your back?” She asked, gently pushing on Miss Plover’s shoulders so she bent at the waist and gave Miss Cuckoo access to her back. Miss Cuckoo bit her lip. There was still a patchwork of half healed bruises across the skin, and she took extra care while washing it so she wouldn’t hurt her sister. 

“You’re doing so well” Miss Cuckoo praised as she finished up. “Now let me just wash your hair, and you can go back to bed” she said and turned to Miss Peregrine 

“Alma, fetch me a comb, would you?” She asked as she carefully poured water over Miss Plover’s head, making her shiver, and by the time Miss Peregrine had fitted back she had just finished washing the soap out of Adrienne’s long dark hair. 

“Thank you” Miss Cuckoo said, accepting the brush, and slowly and carefully working away at the snarls in Miss Plover’s hair until it may as smooth and shiny as it used to in a damp curtain down her back. 

“Now let’s get you dressed and to bed” Miss cuckoo said, half lifting the catatonic woman out of the bath, and wrapping her in a towel. 

“Hand me the nightgown, alma” she instructed. 

She pulled the nightgown over Miss Plover’s head, sitting her down in the toilet so she could get her dressed. “Come on. You must be tired” she said, and Miss Plover nodded. 

Miss cuckoo smiled at her and led her back to bed, tucking the covers around her and kissing her brow. 

“Sleep well, dear sister” she said softly. Miss Plover let out a little hum, shutting her eyes and going off to sleep. 


End file.
